Chapter 51: Sister, I Was Wrong

Fu Wenzhou was startled by her question, his gaze stormy and unsettled as he looked at her. After a moment, he lowered his head and sniffed his clothes, catching nothing but the scent of alcohol. “What perfume? Don’t try to change the subject, Ruan Mingchen…”

“Whose scent is it?” Song Qingyou’s delicate feet were bound, her body exuding a beautiful sense of torment, yet her eyes remained cold. This extreme contradiction formed a fatal allure.

It was impossible to look away.

Fu Wenzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed; his jealousy and possessiveness were shattered, and he truly began to recall. “Ran into Ruan Yinyin at Nightfall.”

He added, “Didn’t dodge her.”

Song Qingyou finally lifted her eyes. “So it was Ruan Yinyin who told you I was going to marry Ruan Mingchen?”

Fu Wenzhou didn’t deny it.

Song Qingyou’s lips curled faintly, her voice detached and clear. “Because of her casual words, you kicked down my door and barged in to accuse me. Fu Wenzhou, do you think you’re impressive?”

Fu Wenzhou’s expression changed, his brow dark and fierce, his words biting. “You’re about to marry Ruan Mingchen! Am I supposed to welcome it with a smile, clap my hands and cheer?”

Song Qingyou beckoned him closer. “Lower your head.”

Fu Wenzhou obeyed, his face grim.

With a sharp slap, Song Qingyou struck Fu Wenzhou across the face.

He was stunned, emotions swirling in his eyes, the depths as black as a storm.

After the slap, Song Qingyou’s palm lingered, her fingertips gently caressing his cheek. Her voice softened, “Does it hurt?”

Fu Wenzhou pressed his tongue against his cheek, remaining bent over, his eyes reddening. “Sister, you hit me because of Ruan Mingchen.”

Song Qingyou looked directly at him. “I hit you because you so easily let another woman provoke you, defining me without even asking. Today someone tells you I’m marrying, you believe it. Tomorrow, if someone says I’m sleeping with another man, would you believe that too? Or do you see me as someone so careless?”

Fu Wenzhou froze, the gloom in his eyes dissipating. He lowered his voice and moved closer to her.

His throat was hoarse. “You haven’t gotten engaged to the Ruan family?”

Song Qingyou let go. “Last month, Ruan Mingchen proposed a deal. Old Master Ruan wanted him to marry the heiress of the Jiang family, but he didn’t want to use marriage as a business chip. So he asked me to help him stall for a while; in exchange, he promised to invest the Ruan family’s AI project in Shiyu.”

She had refused at the time, never expecting him to spread the rumor anyway.

Song Qingyou had called Ruan Mingchen that evening to confront him, but before she could finish, someone kicked down her door.

Thinking of it now, she couldn’t help but feel anger.

Fu Wenzhou suddenly crouched, his voice low. “Sister, I was wrong.”

He had taken Ruan Yinyin’s words at face value, and thinking back, there was no basis for it.

He deserved that slap.

Fu Wenzhou regretted it a hundred times over. The broken door didn’t matter, but what if Qingyou stayed angry with him?

His mind was filled with Song Qingyou, long forgetting the harsh words she’d said earlier that day that had left him so upset.

Song Qingyou looked at him. “Fu Wenzhou, do you love me that much?”

Fu Wenzhou answered softly, “Yes.”

He had never shied away from his feelings for her.

Song Qingyou turned her head, her thoughts faint and unreadable.

Fu Wenzhou’s voice turned rough as he moved closer. “Qingyou, I want to kiss you.”

Song Qingyou glanced back at him, disbelief in her eyes.

After all that, after their argument and her being tied up by him, he still wanted to kiss her?

Fu Wenzhou shamelessly leaned in, his upturned eyes reflecting Song Qingyou’s face. “Don’t marry Ruan Mingchen, don’t marry anyone else. Just be with me, please?”

Song Qingyou’s expression stayed cold and silent; she neither agreed nor refused.

Fu Wenzhou’s nose brushed hers, his breath heavy. “I’ve sent Gu Bai to find Master Yunfang. He’s a brilliant healer—once we find him, you’ll be cured.”

Song Qingyou said, “And what if you don’t find him?”

Fu Wenzhou’s lips hovered just a finger’s breadth from hers. “If we don’t find him in a year, then two years. If not two, then three; if not three, then five. We’ll find him someday.”

Song Qingyou’s gaze was calm, unreadable.

She didn’t say she might not live to see that day.

She merely said, “Until Master Yunfang is found, I’ll have to rely on your precious medicines to stay alive. Looks like you’ll spend quite a bit of money.”

“I’m happy to spend anything for you.” Fu Wenzhou’s voice seemed to roll from the depths of a cold, damp pool—low and rough. “I’ll treat you better than anyone. I’ll make you comfortable, be your personal heater, whatever you desire.”

He said, “I know I annoy you, and I don’t want to be like this, but I can’t control myself. When I don’t see you, I feel miserable. Three years ago, I lost you once; I never want to lose you again.”

“Hearing you were going to get married, my chest felt tight, my mind stopped working. All I could think of was finding you and locking you away, so you wouldn’t marry Ruan Mingchen.” Fu Wenzhou hugged her and kissed her. “I’m obsessive, possessive, even crazed, but I’m willing to change for you. Anything you dislike, I’ll change.”

Fu Wenzhou buried his head in her neck, drinking in her scent. “Qingyou, don’t abandon me again.”

Song Qingyou was taken aback, hearing him use the word ‘again,’ her thoughts drifting.

So, three years ago, when he knelt in the rain begging her not to marry Fu Tingshen, and she turned away—was that abandonment to him?

Like a master casting aside a puppy, the puppy finally finds its way back, terrified of being abandoned a second time.

Song Qingyou’s arm lifted slightly, her soft palm brushing through his black hair. In just a month or two, his hair seemed to have grown so much. She pressed down gently; it felt just as she imagined, soft and pleasant, not prickly at all.

Her heart stirred, and she found herself explaining the events of three years ago. “I married Fu Tingshen because I needed to escape the shackles of the Song family. Fu Tingshen is cunning but arrogant and not very clever; running things under his nose is far easier than under Song Yuan’s.”

She paused. “And you were only eighteen then. I hadn’t lost my mind to that degree.”

Her only impression of Fu Wenzhou that night was of a somewhat foolish youth.

He knelt in the pouring rain for hours, just to beg her not to wed.

Not only foolish, but stubborn as well.

Fu Wenzhou felt a faint joy rising in his heart. Knowing Song Qingyou didn’t love him, but also didn’t love anyone else, brought him a strange sense of relief.

He nipped at her neck, then kissed her earlobe. “It’s fine if you don’t love me—just don’t love anyone else.”

Being close and familiar, he had such an advantage over the others.

She was in his arms, being kissed and held. How could anyone compete?

Fu Wenzhou tightened his embrace, kissing and biting, taking inch after inch.